


Eye for an Eye

by WitchOfTheWestCountry



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchOfTheWestCountry/pseuds/WitchOfTheWestCountry
Summary: Jamie has been a shit and someone out there thinks he needs a lesson.





	Eye for an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever non-con, written to deal with some issues and bad feelings I've been having. It's a revenge fic and it's not meant to be nice. Only go ahead if you're comfortable reading about m/m oral rape.
> 
> The OC is an amalgam of two troublesome people in my life....

Jamie became aware of the person behind him moments too late.

He was mildly high and had been fascinated by the way the moonlight was hitting the dumpster in the alleyway he was passing, and the footsteps that followed him were just background noise right up until the point they became very important…

The arm around his throat cut off his air, and he pawed at it with vague incomprehension. There was a noise in his ear, excited huffing and puffing that seemed to mock his own inability to breathe, and he felt slightly resentful. He wasn't afraid at that moment: Everything happening was doing so with such quickness that he only had time to feel inconvenienced.

The fear came later.

 

He was blind, his head covered by some kind of rough hood that smelled strong and sweet and organic. It made him feel sick, but not as sick as the knowledge that someone had put it on him whilst he'd been unconscious. He tried to move, but whilst his legs were free his arms were stuck behind him, his wrists secured by something thin and painful that had no give to it whatsoever.

He was lying on a hard metal floor, the vibrations of an engine thrumming through it, and whoever was driving the vehicle did it with no thought whatsoever of their passenger: Every time a corner was turned Jamie was rolled helplessly with the motion, head  _ ding _ ing off the inside walls, elbows bruised by the unforgiving surface. He bit his tongue as he was tossed around, and he tried to pretend that the sudden pain was what brought tears to his eyes.

The ride was a nightmare, but it was preferable to the unknown fate that awaited him.

 

“I ain't got any money!”

They were the first words he was able to blurt out from inside his hood when the doors opened, and his voice broke on the last one. He'd intended to sound defiant, maybe even aggressive, but his efforts were greeted by a snigger.

“Me neither, buddy,” said a voice that sounded familiar and distant. “Lucky that ain't what I want you for.”

Jamie moaned, kicking out with his feet as groping hands reached for his ankles. He was rewarded by a punch to the big muscle of his thigh that left his leg feeling heavy and achey.

“You fuckin’ stop that!”

His captor sounded pissed, and again familiar, but Jamie was too scared to focus and identify him. His wrists were seized, fingers hooking into the unforgiving bonds and he was dragged out bodily.

He staggered; considered just dropping to the ground and refusing to walk. But something touched his back between his shoulder blades, a cold cylinder digging into the scant meat there, and he froze.

“Got a gun right here, so don't try anythin’ funny,” said his kidnapper. “You walk when I say you walk, stop when I say you stop.”

“Where are we going?”

That snigger again: It sounded dirty and sinister.

“Somewhere private….”

 

There was a long way to walk but his hood stayed on the entire time. Up stairs; down stairs; through doors; along corridors. Some spaces were large and echoey, some cluttered and claustrophobic. His captor wasn't particularly helpful, allowing him to trip over things with no warning, laughing when he stumbled headlong into stuff. At one point he slipped down a short flight of steps, feet skidding off the edge of a tread, and he made his way to the bottom on his ass, bruising his tailbone in the process. The man’s cackle was almost maniacal in its glee, and Jamie knew he was enjoying the extra suffering. He was glad of the stifling hood at that moment, as it meant his tears of pain and humiliation couldn't be seen.

Eventually, though, they arrived at their destination, and now the man guided him, cruel fingers digging into his upper arm, positioning him fussily.

“Okay, that's it. Right there...uh-huh. Okay. Now. Get down on your knees.”

Jamie hesitated. It wasn't a conscious rebellion, merely a moment of confusion, but it made his companion irate.

“I said:  _ Get down on your knees, motherfucker!” _ he snarled, and a foot hit the back of his legs, buckling them  beneath him.

His knees hit a hard floor, the queasy pain making him yelp, and the man snorted.

“More like it,” he muttered. “I swear, Jamie, you are slower than molasses goin’ uphill in January. Stay still, now.”

Still incapacitated by the ache in his knees, Jamie only moaned. The man knew his name; somehow that made him feel worse.

Something was going over his head, roughly and without any finesse, and he twisted in sudden panic. He thought he knew what it might be and his suspicion was confirmed as it fell around his neck.

“What the fuck -?”

It was a rope noose, prickly fibres scraping the tender skin of his throat, and before he could react it was snagged up tight, cinching under his Adams apple. The man's swift footsteps retreated, followed by an abrupt tension to the rope, and Jamie croaked as it squeezed him.

“No! Ohmygod no! Please don't!  _ Please _ !”

A chuckle from a short distance away.

“Ain't gonna strangle you,” said the man. “Not if you behave.”

He left the tiniest bit of slack, just enough that Jamie could move a fraction, and rejoined his victim at a lazy amble.

He pulled off the hood, grabbing it at the crown of Jamie’s head and tearing out a tuft of hair by the roots as he did so.

The light wasn't strong but Jamie winced anyway, squinting as his surroundings came into focus.

He was in a large room, workbenches and power tools all around, and the sight of some of them made his guts shrivel. The hood, he now saw, had been an old animal feed sack, and it dangled from the hand of a man he recognised. It took him a moment to come up with a name to put to the narrow features and the beak nose of the grinning face above him.

“Lucas Baker….” he said in disgust.

“Right first time!” said Lucas. “Guess I ain't that forgettable after all, huh?”

Jamie scowled. Of course he remembered Lucas Baker. The skinny misfit was a couple of years older than him, but they'd been at high school together, and Lucas had been a weird loner right at the bottom of the pecking order. Jamie was dismayed at himself for being so frightened: Lucas Baker was a loser….

“Let me up, you fucking freak!” said Jamie. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Lucas’s lips thinned and twisted into a sneer, and now Jamie saw the gun he'd momentarily forgotten about in his other hand: a big old Magnum that looked like a fucking antique but which was cleaned and maintained and could no doubt still shoot. Lucas brought the barrel up and pressed the muzzle under Jamie’s chin, grinding it into the soft flesh below his jaw.

“Freak?” he asked softly. “Is that any way to talk to the man who's got you tied up an’ helpless with a gun to your head?”

Jamie swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. Lucas had been a loser, yes, and a social pariah with his faded old clothes and home-cut hair, but now he remembered that there had been other rumours at school, tales handed down to the younger kids: Lucas Baker was crazy, they'd said. He’d bitten a boy's ear off during a fight. He’d hidden a cottonmouth in a teacher's desk, though nobody was able to prove it. And he'd spent some time in a mental hospital when he was a kid, though no one could say when or what for. Everybody knew Lucas could turn on a dime and go batshit wild when cornered.

Lucas smiled, looking satisfied at the change in his demeanor.

“Yeah, you got it. I'm in charge here, Jamie, an’ you better do what I say if you wanna walk outta here with all your body parts still attached. You get me?”

Jamie nodded carefully.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Do I really need to answer that?” asked Lucas. “Come on now, Jamie - think real hard. Why in the world would I have any business with you, huh? Wrack that tiny brain o’ yours!”

“I don't know what -” he began, then stopped.

Oh shit. Of course. Oh shit….

He hadn't made the connection at first, but now it hit him like a ton of bricks. He groaned, bowels feeling loose and heavy.

“Zoe….” he said in a weak voice.

“That's right!”

Lucas sounded delighted.

“Well done! Guess you ain't as dumb as you look!”

“Oh man….look, Lucas, it's not what you think! C’mon….let's talk about this!”

Jamie tried his bonds surreptitiously, hoping that his rising panic would give him the strength to break free, but any superhuman abilities chose to remain dormant.

“Whatever it is you're thinking of doing, don't do it!” he babbled. “Zoe wouldn't want you to hurt me!”

“Guess again, motherfucker,” said a voice from the doorway, and Jamie didn't have to look to know who it was.

“Zoe? Aw, shit, Zoe...you must know that wasn't me posted those pictures! It was...it was Aaron! Yeah, Aaron. He got a hold of my phone, see, and I didn't know he'd done it till it was too late….and he...he changed my password so I couldn't take them down!”

“And I guess it was Aaron posted the video, too?” said Zoe. “And wrote all that stuff about me online? All that really intimate, private, sexually fuckin’ explicit stuff?”

“Yeah! It was! Zoe, you gotta believe me, I wouldn't do that to you! I respect you too much! You tell your brother to let me go and I'll go straight to Aaron and make him take  _ everything _ down! I promise! Just  _ please! Please _ don't let Lucas do anyth-” 

His words were cut off by a stinging slap high on his cheekbone that made his eyes water. It hadn't been Zoe who had slapped him: It had been Lucas.

He glared at Jamie.

“I just about had enough o’ your excuses,” he said. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth an’ listen….”

Lucas crouched down, his face inches away from Jamie’s. His breath smelled like stale cigarettes.

“Now you listen up real good,” he said in a low, confidential tone. “Cuz here's what's gonna happen: When I let you go, you're gonna take down all them pictures an’ videos o’ my sister. An’ don't give me no bullshit about it bein’ Aaron, cuz we both know the truth! An’ after you done that, you are gonna delete the stuff you took down so you won't be tempted to use it again. An’ after  _ that _ ...you're gonna go on all those accounts where you said shit about Zoe an’ you're gonna confess that it was you. You're gonna apologise.  _ And  _ you're gonna tell everyone you're a lyin’, worthless sonofabitch an’ that Zoe don't deserve none o’ that.

“These are the  _ Things _ . That  _ you _ . Are gonna  _ Do _ .”

He sat back. Jamie was already nodding, frantic and hopeful. He couldn't believe it was so easy! Yeah, he'd agree to anything, and as soon as this asshole let him free he'd go straight to the cops. Or better yet, get some of his friends together to teach this white trash a lesson….

Lucas giggled.

“I know what you're thinkin’, shithead. I know. You're thinkin’ you'll go to the cops, maybe, or even call up your buddies to kick my ass, but lemme tell you now, you're not gonna do either o’ those things. Because I ain't dumb, Jamie. I'm  _ smart _ .”

He tapped his temple with a long, slender finger.

“You ain't gonna go back on your word an’ you ain't gonna get no revenge. Because you see that there camera, Jamie? That one there?”

Lucas grabbed his chin in a pincer grip, turning his head to the left. There was an old video camera mounted on a tripod, its lense pointed to the little stage Lucas had set up.

“That there is insurance. Because you are gonna suck my dick, Jamie, an’ I am gonna record it.”

 

The rope around his neck tightened but it didn't stop him from pulling. He wrenched his head to the side, whipping it from Lucas’s grasp, shaking it back and forth.

“No! No I am not! Fuck you, you fucking faggot!”

“I ain't gay, far as I know. But even if I was….”

Lucas shrugged.

“Ain't about the sex, Jamie. It's about the  _ power _ . Always is. You been usin’ it against my sister, so now I'm gonna use it against you. Make sure you keep your promises. Because I don't honestly know what kind o’ reputation you got, but I'm pretty sure it would suffer if photos o’ you suckin’ some guy’s dick surfaced on Instagram or whatever. This is a hick town full o’ small minded people an’ they're gonna look at you a whole lot different if they reckon you like to suck dick. Especially your friends, right Jamie..?”

Jamie and his friends had once beat up a little queer boy after a night at Lonny’s Bar. At least, they thought he was queer: He'd been small and soft and slightly girly-looking and that had been enough for them. Adam had tried to call it off saying the guy wasn't doing any harm and Brad had asked him if he was a faggot too…

Jamie shuddered. He knew how his friends would react.

Lucas was watching him, a faint smirk playing on his mouth and Jamie licked his dry lips.

“Please don't do this,” he said. “I swear I'll take those pictures down, but  _ please…. _ please don't….”

Lucas got to his feet.

“Sorry, buddy. This is happenin’. Get used to it.”

Jamie clenched his teeth.

“You put your dick in my mouth I'll bite it right the fuck off,” he snarled, but Lucas didn't seem concerned.

“Yeah, I thought maybe you’d say that, so I rigged up a little precaution. Zoe, would you do the honours?”

Zoe came forward, some kind of contraption in her hand and a grimace of disgust on her face.

“Ugh. Never thought I'd be touchin’ that needle dick again....” she said, crouching down.

Jamie tried to see what she was doing but Lucas grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back.

“Don't you fuckin’ look at her!” he snapped. “Eyes up!”

Jamie obeyed, despite his curiosity. Zoe was unzipping his jeans, delving into his shorts and bringing out his cock. Fear had shrivelled it to the size of a walnut, and he felt his face go hot as Zoe giggled.

“Forgot how tiny it was….” she said.

Something cold touched his dick, a hard edge, and he flinched. Zoe fussed around a few seconds longer before standing and backing away.

“Done,” she reported.

“Thanks, Zoe. Y’all better get outta here now - don't want you seein’ this.”

Zoe snorted.

“Trust me, I don't wanna fuckin’ see it either. Do ‘im good, Lucas. Have fun!”

A door slammed and Lucas released his hair. He looked down right away, rope strands prickling his chin. His dick was through something….something he almost knew but couldn't quite identify. Lucas helped him out.

“Cigar cutter. Modified, o’ course. Blade's got some power behind it. An’ see those wires? Hooked up to the button on the desk right there. You decide to get rough with my junk you better believe I'm mashin’ that button. Slice your dick clean off.”

He squinted down at it.

“Not that it'll be much o’ a loss, though….”

 

The shakes took ahold of Jamie as Lucas got everything ready. The camera made a whirring noise as it started up and he tried to concentrate on that rather than contemplate what was about to happen.

“I been plannin’ this awhile,” confessed Lucas as adjusted the camera’s angle on its tripod. “Ain't gonna lie - kinda nervous myself. Hopin’ I don't get all camera shy. No offense but I reckon I'm gonna just close my eyes and pretend you're someone else…”

He came out from behind the camera and walked towards Jamie. He was already starting to undo his pants, the zip sounding louder than the whirr of the camera in his state of terror.

“Just so’s you know...I ain't washed my dick in a coupla days in preparation for this,” said Lucas said. “I suffer for my art an’ so will you.”

Jamie turned his head away, refusing to look, and Lucas slapped him again, an open-hand smack that was more humiliating than painful.

“No, you will fuckin’ look at me, you little bitch! You  _ deserve _ this.”

He grabbed his chin and tilted his head up with a vicious snap, and now Jamie could see it. Worse, he could  _ smell _ it - that musky stank of unwashed dick right in front of his face.  Lucas was jerking it, making it hard, the tip wavering hypnotically up and down. It was bigger than he'd expected. From where he was kneeling, helpless, it looked the size of his mom’s station wagon, and there was no way it was going to fit in his mouth.

He pressed his lips together, stubborn. This wasn't happening.

Lucas laughed, a short bark of disbelief.

“You think that's gonna stop me? Think again, bitch!”

He let go of his chin, pinching onto his nose instead. It hurt, Lucas exerting more pressure than was needed, and before long Jamie’s lungs were begging him to open his mouth. He parted his lips, sucking a little sip of precious air in, and Lucas made an angry sound.

“You ain't leavin’ here till you sucked me off, Jamie, so you may as well get it over with…”

He was still stroking his cock, the engorged head weeping a single drop of precum right before Jamie’s eyes, and Jamie clenched his teeth harder.

“ _ Fk off… _ ”

Lucas sighed.

“Okay, well, I didn't wanna have to fo this, but you're leavin’ me no choice…”

He let go of his dick, reaching behind him with his now free hand, and Jamie let out a screech of terror. The button! The fucking button! With a helpless sob he opened his mouth, reluctant jaw making a creaking sound as he unclamped it. He sobbed, unable to help the weak noise. He didn't want to suck Lucas’s dick, god no, but more than that he didn't want to lose his own….

“That's more like it,” said Lucas. “Good bitch. Wider now - that's right. Like you're at the dentist. An’ watch those fuckin’ teeth, I'm warnin’ you…”

He took his cock by the base, holding it straight out in front, then pushed his hips foward.

 

Lucas apparently didn't believe in half measures: He plunged in to Jamie’s mouth in a rush, jamming his dick in hard as far as he could. It hit the back of Jamie’s throat at once, slimy and salty, and he gagged around it, stomach hitching. Lucas had released his nose now he was doing as he was told but he grabbed Jamie’s hair instead as Jamie instinctively tried to pull back, holding his head in place.

His pubic hair, as dank and sweaty as his dick, brushed Jamie’s nose.

“Aw, that's actually pretty good,” said Lucas, pulling out partially then thrusting back in. “True what they say: You really  _ can't _ tell the difference between the inside of a man's mouth an’ the inside of a woman's…”

He sighed, teasing him, nudging gently then ramming again. The roots of Jamie’s hair screamed as Lucas renewed his grip, and he used his makeshift handle to rock Jamie’s head forward along the shaft.

“You'll have to pardon me….bein’ a little rough,” panted Lucas. “But I feel like...you deserve it that way...Besides….you're a big guy....you can take it!”

There wasn't much dick sucking going on: Jamie was being efficiently face fucked and he could glean some comfort from the fact that he wasn't exactly participating. He closed his eyes.

_ Slap! _

“You open your fuckin’ eyes an’ look at me! You ain't got the luxury o’ pretendin’ you ain't here!”

Jamie’s eyes flew open as Lucas pushed his 

cock in the furthest yet, triggering his gag reflex once more. He remembered Zoe blowing him and he'd done the same thing, finding it sexy when she retched, enjoying her brief panic when she couldn't breathe. He wondered if she'd told her brother that…

Lucas was staring down at him, those creepy ice-blue eyes holding no mercy or compassion - no lust, even, just a determined satisfaction. He watched Jamie squirm as he struggled to breathe, waiting until he was near passing out before pulling back a little. He patted Jamie’s cheek.

“Doin’ real good there…” he said.

He withdrew his cock. It was shiny with spit and glistened under the hanging lights. Jamie gasped in air, chest heaving. Was that it? Was it over?

Lucas smiled, a grim expression.

“I ain't done yet, pretty boy,” he said. “We gotta make it look good for the camera. I'm goin’ back in, an’ this time you're gonna suck properly…”

 

He started to weep as Lucas reintroduced his dick. He was being more gentle this time, but that somehow made it worse, and he sobbed silently, aware that the camera was catching his weak tears as well as everything else. He did as he was told, and sucked, trying to remember all the blowjobs he'd ever had and what had made them good. If he did it well enough, it would be over faster.

Snot bubbled out of one nostril and he snorted it back up impatiently. He curled his tongue around the piece of rank meat in his mouth, and his sloppy ministrations brought a sigh from his tormentor.

“Aw yeah, that's more like it….” said Lucas, his voice a purr. “You're a natural at this.”

A lock of Jamie’s flopped down over his forehead and stuck to the sweat-damp skin. To his horror Lucas smoothed it away with his thumb almost tenderly, cupping his cheek as he sucked.

Drool dribbled down Jamie’s chin and he continued to cry as he pulled in his cheeks, slurping on Lucas’s dick like it was a salty popsicle, dipping his head as far as he dared.

_ Comeoncomeoncomeon…. _

He had to cum soon - he just had to.

He gagged a little again and Lucas pulled considerately back, bringing a fresh spate of tears. Jamie had preferred the roughness, the use of force. At least then he’d known where he stood. At least then he hadn't been complicit in his abuse.

Lucas sucked in a hasty breath, palm curling around the back of Jamie’s head possessively. He moaned, fingers clenching into his hair, and Jamie felt a burst of hope. There was a minute vibration travelling through the man’s body, a tenseness plucking him like a guitar string and Jamie recognised the signs of an imminent nut. He renewed his efforts, gulping as Lucas rose up on his toes.

There was a pulse against his tongue, and Jamie had a split second before sticky curds were spat into his mouth. He retched in earnest now - the thick spunk tasted like minerals and metal and sat in slimy pool on his tongue. He tried to pull away but Lucas held his head in place, shuddering in the last throes of ejaculation, squeezing the last few drops out like toothpaste from an empty tube.

Jamie heaved helplessly, intent on holding his puke back till he could spit out the intrusive mouthful, and whilst he struggled there was a flash from up above.

He peered up through the blur of tears to see Lucas with his phone in his hand, raising and lowering it to get a good shot.

“Need a few stills for posterity,” he explained, still breathless. “Nice romantic snapshots to put away safe on Google Drive…”

Finally satisfied he snapped off another pic and, not a moment too soon, extracted his dick from Jamie’s mouth.

Jamie summoned some saliva and got ready to spit, but before he could do anything Lucas had his face in his bony grip again.

“Not so fast! Open your mouth, beautiful, let's show the camera what I gave you.”

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth obediently. The jizz had puddled on his tongue and Lucas took another couple of pictures, up close and further away.

“Very nice! Now. Swallow….”

 

Even with his dick in a tiny guillotine and the threat of losing his manhood, Jamie did very his best to spit and deny the final insult.

Lucas grappled his mouth shut, laughing at his desperation, tickling his throat like he was a reluctant cat taking a pill.

So he swallowed. Like he'd been told. It came back up twice but on the third attempt he managed to keep it down and Lucas pried his jaw open to check it was gone. It burned, searing his throat raw, and Jamie had to fight to not puke at the thought of those little bastards swimming down his gullet, looking for an egg they'd never find.

Lucas became breezy and business like once he was done, zipping himself back up, checking the equipment.

“You're in luck!” he announced. “It recorded. I wasn't sure it would to be honest - fuckin’ camera’s hella old. Would o’ had to do it all over again…”

He winked at Jamie and went to the door, calling Zoe in.

“All done in here!” he said. “You better put Romeo’s dick back - looks like he'll live to fuck another day.”

Zoe entered the room, regarding Jamie with open distaste.

“Ew! He's a mess.”

“Boy worked hard. Gotta say he's actually pretty good. Needs some practice but I'd give him seven, maybe seven an’ a half outta ten.”

“Oh my god, was he _ crying _ ?”

There was a giggle in her voice that stripped yet another layer of his dignity off, leaving him feeling skinned and vulnerable.

“Bawled like a baby,” confirmed Lucas cheerfully. “Boy needs some _ spunk _ , I reckon.”

They both laughed.

Lucas ignored him now, fiddling with the camera, checking his phone. Jamie had been used then dismissed, and now he was just a leftover, a piece of trash.

Zoe slipped his dick out of the guillotine and prodded it gingerly back into his pants with the tips of her fingers, handling it like it was a dead rat or something. He couldn't meet her gaze, but that was apparently okay because she didn't seem interested in being chummy.

She got up, brushing dust from her knees, and walked over to her brother.

“Done. You gonna drop him back into town?”

“I guess,” said Lucas without much interest.

Zoe leaned in and spoke to him in a low, confiding voice, but Jamie heard her anyway.

_ “His dick was all slimy. I think he leaked. You think maybe he enjoyed it a little?” _

Jamie’s face went hot with shame as Lucas shrugged.

“Think it's maybe a reflex. Don't mean nothin’. Pretty sure he didn't like it. Anyways, you happy now?”

“Will be when he takes all that shit down,” said Zoe. “Feel kinda bad for him almost…”

“Yeah, well. Whenever you start feelin’ bad, remember what he did. Remember all the anonymous messages you got an’ all the fuckin’ dick pics you were sent because o’ him. Remember about all the whispers and catcalls an’ sideways looks, because I'm tellin’ you now, Zoe: If we hadn't done this, he wouldn't o’ regretted one single thing. Bet your ass he regrets it now.”

 

His knees were bruised and his legs so weak from kneeling on the hard floor he could barely walk, but Lucas was patient with him now - almost kind. He cut through the bonds that fastened his hands behind him - a zip tie - and Jamie’s arms dangled uselessly as the feeling returned to them in a maddening prickle and tingle.

“C’mon buddy. Let's get you home. Imma drop you where I picked you up.”

He loaded his charge into the battered van only this time Jamie was allowed to ride up front. Lucas buckled his seatbelt for him, as he was unable to do it for himself.

“Before we head off, just a word of caution,” said Lucas. “Once you've recovered from this, uh, ordeal, you might feel any number o’ ways. Might get mad. Might feel like takin’ it out on somebody. Understandable. But I’m warnin’ you now, don't you act on those feelin’s. This here's a learnin’ process. I ain't no fuckin’ therapist but to my way o’ thinkin’ you learned tonight how it feels to be treated like shit an’ used. Don't carry it forward an’ do it again, cuz I won't fuckin’ hesitate to hunt you down if i hear so much as a fuckin’  _ rumour _ o’ you bein’ an asshole…”

Jamie nodded dully.

“I hear you,” he croaked. “Whatever.”

Lucas started the van up, leaning forward to squint up at the sky. It was darker than it should be, thick clouds blotting out the moon.

“Better hurry I guess,” he mused. “The storm's comin’. Gonna be a big one, they say….”

“Yeah. I heard that too.”

Lucas released the parking brake and drove away.

 


End file.
